Trix, not Mom, got it?
by thelonelyonlychild
Summary: Trix finds herself kidnapped by Peter Pan and on Neverland. She doesnt want to be a mom to six boys, but she has always wanted to live on Neverland. Hilarium and excitement ensues. (I suck at summaries, btw) Just take your chances with this one, folks!
1. Chapter 1

**Trix's POV**

"Argh…"

I roll over on my bed, which feels like it is on fire, trying to drown out the sounds from outside my open window.

Wait, what?

I sit up and yank my curtain to the side. There's nothing there.

I frown, but then conclude that I had been dreaming, and lay down again.

After a few minutes, I get up and stick my head out of my window. I love my window. It's huge and opens outward, and you have to undo the catch in the middle, then push the two sides out. Usually, I do this dramatically, as if I was a thief, running from thugs trying to catch me.

I jump out the window-

-and land on square section of roof underneath. I dangle my long legs over the side of the ledge, and lean back on my arms. A cool night breeze blows my long auburn hair to the side, and I breathe in deeply. I have always wondered why, in summer at night, the insides of houses are always the temperature of the Sahara (I'm guessing, never actually been to the Sahara, thank God), but outside is always cool. Well, at least the heat stops _sometimes_ in summer.

The night sky is free of clouds and a deep, midnight blue, lit up by stars.

Okay, not really lit up by stars, all of the lights in the city prevent the stars from being seen, but still, that sounds good.

I notice two bright stars in the sky. They look like they are moving. Hmm, I think. Probably satellites.

But, I tell myself, satellites do not start to look like they are coming right down to earth, do they?

Disturbed, I start get to my feet and start to turn to go into my room again, when something slams into me.

I try to turn around, but I am pinned to the side of the house, arms behind my back, and I am not happy.

Not. Happy. At. All.

I kick behind me and hear a satisfying "uff" as my assailant is hit in what feels like a stomach. Then I step back, lift my arm over my head, and twist the hand of whoever it is towards my body.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, owowowowowowowowowow!"

I give a vicious twist to the arm and send the person hurtling into the side of the house, and I gasp.

A boy about my age is trying to recover from my defense. It is hard to see in the dim light, but he looks like he is wearing green, and is thin. I don't stop for long, though. I use the boy as a stepping stool and launch myself into my room, where I roll and shut my window, ignoring the stifling heat that immediately engulfs me.

Frantic, I look around my room, searching with my eyes for something- anything- that I can use as a weapon.

Luckily, I can be pretty resourceful.

I snatch up a dictionary (a heavy oxford one as thick as my shin) and creep to the window. I carefully open the window, then crouch, waiting.

A moment later, a figure floats up in front of the window, and before he can react, he has my dictionary slammed forcefully onto his head. The only reason I decide to not aim for the temple and a death shot is because I don't really want to start my murder career at age twelve, with a victim of the same age.

The dictionary attack has the desired effect. The boy drops like a stone and lands on the section of roof that sticks out from the rest of the house, where he slammed into me. I look down to make sure that he is really unconscious, then duck back into my room.

Ok, ok, ok, think, Trix, think. What to do, what to do...

I glance in the mirror, and immediately, I decide that I cannot go a moment longer looking like this. I grab a hairbrush, wrestle the tangles in my hair into submission, then wash my face. When I am done, I sit down on the floor to gather my thoughts.

I slowly go over what has happened. I heard noises outside my open window. I went outside to cool off. A boy attacked me. I slammed him into the house and knocked him out with a dictionary. Then I brushed my hair and washed my face. I am now sitting calmly in the middle of my room.

Now what? I can't go to bed, I will never be able to fall asleep, and I am not about to call the cops. I don't trust authority figures.

So...

Before I can make a decision, the window blows open, and a boy drops on the floor.

He is about my age (twelve), and has a mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes that I like immediately. He is wearing what looks like intricately woven leaves, and there is a dagger at his side. His red hair is in disarray, and he flies right to me and growls, "That. Hurt."

I look at him innocently, then punch him in the stomach. "Oh, sorry!" I say when he doubles over. "Did that hurt, too?"

The boy glares at me, and I return his gaze calmly with raised eyebrows. On the inside, I am thinking hard. This scene is very familiar... Not that I have ever punched a flying boy in the stomach after I knocked him out with a dictionary, but his very appearance.

Skeleton leaves... FLYING... A dagger at his side... FLYING... blue eyes... FLYING... visiting girls at night... FLYING...

Click. How on earth did it take me so long to figure it out? After all, I do basically have the book memorized.

Peter Pan is in my room.

"Erm, excuse me, flying boy, but who are you exactly?"

The boy looks surprised that I am trying to have a civil conversation. He lands lightly on my carpeted floor, still a distance away from me, just in case I try to attack him again. Warily, he replies, "I am Peter Pan."

Knew it. "So, er, sorry about the dictionary and the punch and everything, but you kind of FREAKED ME OUT BY APPEARING OUT OF NOWHERE!"

Peter blinks. "What do you mean?"

I raise an eyebrow. "I mean you slammed into me and pinned me to the wall. And you just appeared."

"Oh." Peter seems to think about this, then says, "I am very sorry."

"Apology accepted."

...

...

...

*long pause continues*

"Soo..." I twist a strand of hair around my finger. "What are you doing here?"

Peter looks relieved that the awkward turtles have swum out of the area. He answers in a self-important voice, "I have come looking for a girl to take to Neverland."

"Whyyyy?"

"To make the mother of the Lost Boys."

"What, run outta Darling's?" I ask sarcastically. "Did they finally have a son?"

Peter has a zoo of emotions on his face, surprise (at my knowledge of the Darlings?), jealousy (at who exactly?), longing (for what?), but he settles on confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Erm... Never mind..." I decide that I should not reveal that he is in a famous book. Or maybe he knows... I won't ask. "But why are you here, in America? Don't you only visit England?"

"I'm in America?"

"Yes. You must have a crappy sense of direction if you didn't know that. The USA is thousands of miles away from England. It's across a _sea_!"

"Wow. I must have fallen asleep longer than I thought." Peter looks very surprised, and I realize that he had been sleep-flying all the way across the Atlantic _and _America.

"Jesus. Why were you so freaking tired?" I ask.

"Umm..." Peter appears to think, then says, "I don't really know." Then he smiles. "But I'm here now! And now we can go to Neverland!"

He grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the window. I break free, saying, "When, exactly, did I agree to go to Neverland?" Actually, I would love to go to Neverland, I have dreamed about it ever since I understood the story (I was around three), but I like to be difficult. Plus, I do not like being told what to do, especially by a boy dressed in plantlife.

Peter stops and looks at me in confusion. "Erm, you didn't, not really. But... Don't you want to go?"

Yes, I think. But I'm not about to tell you that! Out loud, I say, "No."

"Oh." Peter looks really befuddled. I guess he's never met a girl with a brain. Then, he loses the confusion. "You _have_ to come."

"Really, now? And why do I _have_ to?"

"Because." Peter looks stern. "I told you to."

I give a hysterical laugh. "Excuse me?"

"Girls have to do what they're told."

"Ha! Whered'ya get _that_ idea? I don't have any obligation to do what you say!" I snort and cross my arms, rolling my eyes. "Welcome to the 21st century!"

Peter looks defeated, until a small, bright light zips in through my open window. The light flies to Peter's shoulder, and I see an amazing sight. A tiny young woman is perched next to Peter's ear. She is wearing a thin, flowy green gauze dress, and her long brownish-red hair is loose. I can't see anything else about her, though, because she is so far and tiny. But I do see one other thing. A pair of silvery wings extend from her shoulders, glittering and glowing.

Fairy, twelve o'clock.

Then, I hear a high, sharp voice, and small bells jingling in the background of it.

"Peter, we don't _need_ a girl."

"Yes, we do, Tink, we have been over this before." Peter rolls his eyes.

"It still doesn't make any sense! Girls don't do anything!"

"Tink, _you_ are a girl."

Meanwhile, my head is spinning like a top. I am hearing a voice. This should be normal, but I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO UNDERSTAND THE FAIRY LANGUAGE! And I can, because that is generally what fairies speak, particularly this fairy.

"Uh, heh, excuse me," I interrupt the pair's discussion with an awkward cough. "But ah, I sort of need you to tell me how I am supposed to be understanding a fairy?"

A moment passes, then Tink's tiny jaw drops, and Peter crows in delight. "I knew it, Tink!" Then, he takes out from a pouch at his belt a dark green leaf, tears it in half in front of my face, and-

_whumph-thud._

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**This is my first real fanfic, I would love some constructive criticism. Please do not post trashy comments, they are not helpful and that is not why I am taking time to write this stuff. I will work on the next chapters! (And yes, I did delete two chapters and remake this one. Suck it up! I'm making them better! And slightly longer.) And thank you to those six that have commented and the several that are following and favoriting. You make me proud of myself!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

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**Hello, people who generously are reading this fanfic! I have finally come to the second chapter! I hope you enjoy it.**

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**Trix's POV**

My head hurts. That is the first thing that comes to mind when I swim into consciousness. My eyes move around under my lids, searching for the energy to open them up and see the daylight that will be streaming through my bedroom window.

Wait, there is something I have to remember.

What is it?

Oh, yes. A flying boy and a fairy killed leaves in my face, and I blacked out. I would say that was a dream, but I know when I am dreaming and when I am awake.

So what did they do with me?

I open my eyes and blearily look around.

"AAARGH!" I scramble backwards, staring wildly at the six faces leaning around me. "Wha- what the- who the- where the- wha?"

"Oh, look, she's awake."

"She doesn't look very happy. Wonder why."

"We gave her the whole bed. She _should_ be happy."

I shake my head, and try to see clearly. Six boys of various sizes and ages and wearing various animal furs, are standing around me. I am on a bed, in what looks like a cave or some underground hideout.

Yup. I'm dead.

Oooorrrrr, I'm in the Home Under the Ground on the bed surrounded by the Lost Boys.

Option A or Option B. I'll go with B for now. It's more optimistic.

Taking a closer look at the boys, I can put a name to each face. That one must be Tootles, and the one with the curly hair is obviously Curly. That blond boy with a turned up nose and a whistle sticking out of his pocket is Slightly, and the identical little boys are the twins. That leaves the tall boy with the dark hair to be Nibs.

Calmed down, I sit cross-legged and look around me. "Hello."

"Hi," they all say.

"So... anyone care to tell me what exactly I am doing here?" I raise my eyebrows and look around the circle accusingly.

Slightly speaks up. "Peter brought you to be our mother."

"Uh-huh. Even after I said no." I think for a second. How to use this situation to my advantage? "Ok then." I make a shooing motion between Nibs and one of the twins to create a gap I can walk through. "Move over." I stroll out into the middle of the room and look around.

The Home Under the Ground isn't overly large, but it is a nice enough size. There is a furry rug on the floor, and all sorts of stuff hangs from the ceiling; plants, baskets, rope. Lining the walls are more stuff. An enormous fireplace at one end blazes, casting orange light throughout the room. I notice, curiously, that there are a lot of boy-sized holes in the walls. Probably entryways.

And weapons. The weapons are everywhere. Hallelujah. I love weapons. I make a beeline for a bunch of swords stuck in a box, and pull one out, examinng it. Beautiful.

Oof. And heavy. I place the sword back where I found it and glance behind me. The six boys are staring at me with bewildered expressions. "What?" I ask them.

"Why aren't you being our mother?" asks Curly.

"Heh. Because I don't want to be. I'm only twelve, and I don't want to start being a mother." I pick up an arrow from a quiver at my feet and look at it.

"But you're a girl."

I sigh. Here we go again. Putting the arrow back down, I turn to face the boys, hands on my hips. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't make me automatically become a mother." I ignore the voice in my head that is telling me that the female body is literally made to be a mother. "And before you say I have to do whatever you say because I'm a girl, girls also have rights. And brains. Well," I amend, thinking about all the idiot girls I know. "Most of us have brains."

Just then, a sound comes from above. A crowing of delight. Gee, wonder who that could be.

Out of one of the holes in the wall comes flying -and I do mean literally flying- a boy. A boy in skeleton leaves with a dagger at his side, and tousled red hair, mischevious blue eyes, and a pearly grin.

Peter.

Oh, he is sooo going to pay.

Peter does a loop-de-loop before hovering just a few feet from the floor. "Hullo, boys!" he cries, his voice ringing cockiness. "I'm back!"

The Lost Boys cheer on cue. "Yay! Peter's back, Peter's back!"

Then one of the Twins speaks up. "Peter, Peter! The girl doesn't want to be our mother!"

Peter glances warily in my direction, and I glower at him, arms crossed, foot tapping. "Yes," I say. "The girl DOESN'T want to be their mother." I take a step closer to Peter, and he flies a "step" back. "The girl also remembers that a certain flying boy, who KNEW that she did not want to become a mother to six Lost Boys, still took her to Neverland. She also wants to let him know that she is planning on MURDERING HIS GOOD FOR NOTHING FACE FOR DOING SUCH A THING!" Peter flies backwards faster until he is pressed against the wall. I grab a stool and hurl it at him, along with an insult.

Peter's face turns white and he dodges the flying missile. "I'm sorry!" he tries to apologize, but I am past reasoning with.

Another stool is thrown at him.

"I had to bring you!"

Whoosh! There goes a maraca.

"There's this pro-"

Bang! Who knew plates made good frisbees?

"A prophecy about a-"

Shick! Hey, I'm good at throwing spears! Too bad it missed.

"WOULD YOU QUIT WITH THE THROWING THING?!" Before I even notice him coming towards me, Peter is yanking by my waist up into the air and against a wall. He presses me, arms outstretched, so I can't do anything. He takes a deep breath. "You really are very aggravating, do you know that?"

"Yes I do. Put me down."

"No, not until you listen to me."

"Put me down or I'll make you."

"Really? How could a little girl like you- oof!"

I kick out with my right foot and slam it into his stomach. The force pushes him back and he releases me. I fall the few feet to the ground and land easily. I look over at Peter, who is leaning against a wall, holding his stomach, face twisted. I didn't think I hit him that hard. "Listen up, Peter Pan." I glare at him, letting my anger at him show. "I don't want to be a mother. I don't want to be told what to do. I'm not like Wendy or Jane or Margaret or any of the other Darling girls. I have a mind of my own, and a plan. And that plan has nothing to do with being near you." I spin on my heel, walked to one of the entryways, and left the Home Under the Ground behind me.

It's only when I get outside that I bang my head against a tree and think, I am such an idiot. I really should have thought that through.

How the hell am I supposed to get weapons?

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**Hope everyone can at least give this chapter a 2 1/2. I know a three out of ten is just too much to ask. I was in a hurry when I wrote it, so I will update it and make it better, and then try and start the third chapter. If anyone wants me to, that is. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

***virtually ducks the virtually thrown virtual plates and other virtually handy virtual items virtually thrown by Rosezelene Ersa* Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to be so long in updating, everyone who generously reads this, but I found it after months of sitting on my account, and I realized that I had better update soon, no matter how short. So, here is another chapter.**

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**Trix's** POV

After my dramatic exit of the Home Under the Ground, I try to pull up, in my mind, an image of the illustrated map of Neverland that was drawn on the insides of the covers of my Peter Pan copy at home. Closing my eyes tight, I remember the circle of trees drawn on the map, and then, off in one direction, is the Indian Camp, at the end of the island. Hmm, maybe not. The Piccaninny tribe had the scalps of boys as well as pirates, so I don't really feel like seeing if they wanted to add a girl to that collection. Maybe I could head to the Mermaid's Lagoon. Even though that is on the other side of the island. Luckily, I remember that everything is "nicely crammed."

So, off I go. And after walking for a while, I come to a river. Probably the Mysterious River. I sit on the bank and poke my finger into the chilly water, then splash my face. The icy temperature is refreshing, and water runs off my face and drips from my hair onto my pajamas. Which I am still in. A loose brown t-shirt and loose red pajama pants. Wonderful. I should get some real clothes, and soon. And a weapon, obviously. Or ten.

It takes less time than I thought it would to reach the Mermaid's Lagoon. The blue water shimmers in the bright sunlight, small constant waves created from the refreshing breeze that blows through. On a gray rock some distance out in the water, I see what can only be mermaids.

There are three of them, all fair skinned with long, gorgeous tails. The tails are blue and green and purple, shining with a magical iridescence. They dangle towards the water, sometimes dipping into it. The upper parts of the mermaids are bare, contrary to what Disney may think. From this distance, I can see that the mermaids wet hair is very long.

I go to the very edge of the water, and see that it is a clear, Mediterranean blue and green. The white sand extends until I can't see under anymore.

Then I see a flash of a green and blue tail under the water, and a mermaid surfaces. She has long dark hair. It might be brown, but the wetness of the water has turned it black. There is a wreath of small purple shells in her hair, holding it back. She has a beautiful face, her eyes a shining brown, and her lips are full and dark pink. I see that her upper body is muscled, but not unattractively so.

She surveys me with unabashed curiosity, and I stare back impassively, as if I saw mermaids all the time. After a while, she says, in a strangely accented, lilting voice, "Who are you?"

"I am Trix. Who are you?"

"My name is Catriana." She says it like kaht-tree-auh-nuh, with a slight roll to the r.

"I asked who you were, not what your name was."

She frowns. "I do not understand."

"My _name_ is Bellatrixa. But I am not Bellatrixa. I _am_ Trix."

"I see." She gives a small smile. "What a personal question to ask. I suppose I am still Catriana. I have never seen you before. When did you come to be on Neverland? Are you the new fool mother to the Lost Boys?"

I snort. "No. I was kidnapped and brought against my will by Peter Pan. I escaped becoming a mother. I want to live on Neverland, but not always looking after seven boys."

Catriana blinks her big brown eyes, then smiles a wide smile, showing straight white teeth. "Would you like to come sit with us?"

I smile back. "I would."

Catriana turns and dives under the water. I run in, and find the water to be a pleasant temperature. I dive in after her, and swim after her. When we reach the rock, I tread water while my mermaid guide goes to the three mermaids sitting on the rock. Two of them are blonde, and the third is red haired. One of the blondes has a long purple tail, like the red haired one, and the other blonde has a green tail.

The three of them turn and stare at us with curiosity. "Who is this girl?" asks the purple-tailed blonde. "Is it a new mother for the Lost Boys?" She has a look of distaste on her face that I mirror.

"No, Mirramell," says Catriana. "This is Trix, and Peter Pan abducted her and brought her here. She escaped him. She says she does not wish to be a mother to seven boys."

The redhead mermaid snorts. "Me and her, both."

The green tailed blonde mermaid gives her a sharp look. "Quiet, Talina." This mermaid has a more commanding air about her than her companions, and there is a fan-like shell in her hair above another, swirling type of shell. She has full, dark red lips, and sea-blue eyes. Her features are sculpted, and around her waist there are loose strings of pearls.

Talina rolls her green eyes. "Just making conversation, Aurelina."

Aurelina. Au-reh-lee-nuh. Sounds a bit like Aurelia, which means golden, in case anyone cares.

Aurelina ignores Talina and turns back to me. She surveys me calculatingly, then finally, gives a dazzling smile, all of the sharpness melting away. "Do you like to swim, Trix?" she asks.

"Yes, I do. Quite a bit."

"Then swim with us." She dives off the rock, and the other mermaids follow her. I think for a second. Swimming with mermaids might not be the safest thing to do. They do have a reputation for trying to drown people. But then I decide, what the hell. When did I ever have a chance to swim with mermaids?

So I dive under water after them, and open my eyes. (This skill has taken forever to get used to. It used to sting like crazy, but now my eyes are used to it.)

Underwater, the sunlight is blue. The water is clear, and clean, and I can see. Schools of colorful fish dart by me, their scales glittering as they move. Long plants wave gently in the currents, and bright coral below me is covered in small plants and animals and anenomes.

There is a line of clear bubbles, and suddenly, the four mermaids are surrounding me. Their long hair floats around their faces, and their tails swish back and forth. They smile at me, and Mirramell silently holds out a shell. She places the opening of the shell on my lips, and instructs me to breathe deeply in. I do with some hesitation, expecting water to rush into my throat. Instead, there is a light, pleasant feeling, and air is in my mouth. Mirramell pulls the shell away, and I find I can breathe easily in the water. I can hear more clearly, too.

"What is that?" I ask them.

"A breathing shell," answers Talina. "So you can swim with us as long as you want and not drown."

"Good idea. I like not drowning."

"Come on!" Catriana pulls at my arm. "You must see our homes!" So I let her pull me along, lower in the water, right next to the coral, until we get to a large rock formation in the water. There are doors all over, and windows.

"Welcome," says Aurelina, gesturing to the rocks, "to Atalantisin, the home of the mermaids of Neverland."

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**I hope you like it, and sorry if it's short. School just started, and I might be busy with homework to make long chapters. Tell me what you think, and if you have any ideas or predictions! In short, WRITE A REVIEW!**


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